Half Baked
by Ssergit
Summary: Response to a fiction challenge. The CSI's partake of an 'enhanced' dessert, and hilarity ensues. G&S maybe some W&C. ON HOLD sorry!
1. Chapter One

I was intrigued by **Keskin Snape**'s fanfic challenge, and decided I needed a little fun and games to be goin' on. I didn't want to do it in chapters, but that's the way it came out. Here it is, folks.

"Right well, the challenge is, you have to write this fanfic with this stuff happening.  
  
1. A victim or relative of a victim gives the CSI's a big chocolate cake in thanks for solving the crime.  
  
2. The chocolate cake some how came into contact with 'certain herbs' (aka happy tabbacy/pot)   
  
3. All five CSI's get stoned unknowingly.  
  
4. GS stuff happens.   
  
5. Rating can be anywhere from G to NC:17. Though I guess it can't be G because of drugs..."

**Half Baked**

"No, I can't say that I ever have." Nick was surprised at the question; O'Reilly wasn't usually the type to nose into other people's business. Even though it was only the one time, the last thing Nick was about to do would be to divulge such information to a cop, even one he was friends with. The strangeness of the question was enough to have him ask the other man why he asked such a thing.

"Good. Then you won't be tempted." O'Reilly didn't elaborate as he raised the yellow tape so Nick and Warrick could step underneath. Warrick gave Nick a funny look as Nick protested, "Hey, how come you didn't ask Warrick?!"

"Hey, you're the one with the frat background, champ!" Warrick playfully punched the other man on the shoulder as he spoke. The two friends walked into the warehouse to greet Grissom, and finally understood the tenure of the cop's questions. The whole place was nearly stacked to the gills with drug paraphernalia, from actual live plants to nearly 30 bales of packed marijuana. Whoever had run this place must have been fairly high up in the business to have this kind of place. Not that it mattered to him now, if he were one of the three dead men in the middle of the warehouse floor. Nick looked around him, and felt a sense of pride in himself. O'Reilly needn't have even bothered asking; he wasn't tempted in any way whatsoever. The fact, though unsurprising to him, did make him feel good about who he was and how he did his job.

_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?_,~*?

"What a case!" Catherine's observation was echoed by the whole night shift, as they reflected on the events of the past week. During the course of their investigation, Grissom had placed all of them on the case at different intervals, trying desperately to get ahead of the evidence. Three more separate murders, a busted drug ring takeover, and 7 days later, they had the suspects in custody with enough evidence to put them in jail for a long, long time. With all the activity they'd been involved in recently, it was tough to settle down to what looked to be a quiet shift tonight. Grissom was proud of his crew. Not many people could look in the face of such temptation and come through it all without having examined their morals and made a tough decision. The sheriff, worried about the public's view of a corrupt police force, had handed them the entire case, including the evidence collection that would normally be handled by his force. At the end of the day, though, not one of the many bags of drugs had gone missing, nor had the copious amounts of cash they had found hidden throughout the warehouse.

"Well, you all did a great job, and I'm not just talking about the case solving." It was rare for Grissom to express his pride in his crew, but he felt they all needed it, after the pressure put on them not only from the Sheriff's office, but from themselves. Not to mention the fact that they'd broken up a takeover bid by one of the more powerful drug rings in Vegas. He wasn't the only one worried that they would be in danger from some kind of repercussion, but there wasn't much they could do about it until it happened.

"It's so quiet tonight, I'm not sure what to do with myself!" Warrick laughed as he leaned back on the couch, his lanky limbs stretched out before him.

"You _could leave us some walking space, for a start," Nick teased, kicking at the other man's legs, trying to get past to sit down._

"Well, I don't know about the two of you, but I'm going to have some of this cake!" Sara had been eyeing the package they'd received an hour ago for the whole time she'd been in the breakroom, politely waiting for someone else to advance on it first. The note said the cake was a gift from Mrs. Fallow, the grandmother of one of the victims found in the warehouse. She had been particularly helpful in the case, and they'd come back to her often for insights into her grandson's actions leading up to his murder. Sara's patience had finally run out with the anxious growling of her stomach.

"There's cake here?" Greg's voice came from the direction of the breakroom doorway. 

"No, Greg--it's a bomb!!" Sara said in mock seriousness. "Run and get Brass, will you?" Sara reached into a pocket and slipped on some gloves, hoping to convince Greg that she wasn't joking. She dared not look at him, knowing she'd probably burst out laughing and give herself away.

"A bomb?!" Greg wasn't fooled, but he knew a good chance when he saw it. "Let me rescue you, fair maiden!" Pushing past an amused Catherine, he rushed to her side and made to push her out of the 'blast radius.' The two of them tripped over Warrick's outstretched legs, however, and managed to land on both Warrick and Nick. This sight was what greeted Grissom as he turned around from making himself a cup of fresh coffee. He shocked himself with the rush of pure jealousy that came over him. He opened his mouth to say something, but realized that anything he could come up with would probably sound snitty. Besides, they all _did_ work pretty hard the past week, and deserved to have a little fun. The thought did nothing to relieve his tension, however.

"Sara--Oof!" Nick was interrupted by Greg and Sara's attempts to extricate themselves from the couch. "Exactly _what_ were you planning to use those gloves on?" He looked down into her eyes, as she stopped struggling to let Greg get up first. Nick waggled his eyebrows suggestively for a moment, and then his peripheral vision caught Grissom's thunderous look. He stood up, the better to help Sara up faster. He had guessed at her feelings for Grissom the year before, and watched their interactions with interest ever since. He had come to the conclusion that their boss returned her feelings. What he couldn't figure out, though, was how neither of them realized how the other felt. 

"Mmmmm this cake is _good_! You sure you don't want some, Nick?" Sara sighed appreciatively as she slid another forkful of the German Chocolate cake into her mouth.

"Pretty sure, Sara. I'm just not into the sauerkraut-in-cake thing." Nick shuddered.

"Ohh, you're missing out, Nicky," Catherine chimed in, rolling her eyes in the air for emphasis.

"Yeah, even Grissom's enjoying his piece!" Greg spoke as though the thought of Grissom enjoying anything was a shocker.

"Don't push it, 'Greggo.'" Grissom wasn't sure he was ready to forget the lab tech's antics from earlier. "This cake _is_ pretty good, though."

"Nick, you'd probably even turn up your nose at carrotcake, don't you?" Warrick laughed as Nick wrinkled his nose. He teased the Texan a bit more, "Man, I thought Southerners were known for good cooking!" He took another heaping bite of the cake, savoring every bit of the moist dessert.

Sara finished her piece and frowned petulantly. The stress of the past couple of days had melted away, leaving a feeling of general well-being that she decided suited her liking very well. Having been the first one who had sat down with cake, she had finished hers first, and now had the unenviable position of having to look on while the other CSI's (and one happy lab tech) continued to enjoy theirs. Grissom had been the last to sit down--shocking her by taking the seat next to hers instead of the one across the table--and therefore had the most cake left. She studied him, her fork playing with the crumbs left on her paper plate. Grissom, she decided, was the type to take his pleasures slow, and savor them. Sara blushed as she realized what she'd just thought to herself. She felt her body grow warm as the images, unbidden, began to fly through her head. Sara stretched her arms above her head, trying to rid herself of her torrid thoughts. She suddenly giggled as a different thought came to her. Lowering the hand holding her fork, she glided it ever so slowly toward Grissom's plate, watching his face intently. He didn't look over until she had the incriminating bite of cake firmly lodged in the tines.

"Are you stealing from me?!" Grissom touched his fist to his chest as though mortally wounded, and watched with mock horror as she slipped the stolen morsel of cake through her lips.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sara mumbled through the mouthful of cake.

"Well, I'd steal back, but you were a pig and ate all of yours!" Grissom was feeling mighty relaxed, and for once he didn't bother asking himself why. He simply let himself revel in the once familiar banter between them. 

"Oh, a PIG am I?" Sara knew he was teasing, and the adorable cross look on his face made her giggle. "Well, since you seem to see that as a bad thing, I'll just take the rest of your..." Sara reached out and tried to grab Grissom's plateful of cake, but he managed to raise it above her grasp while she struggled with him. All of a sudden his grip on it failed, and the plate and coveted cake fell towards the floor. All eyes watched in shock but one's, and Nick gave a crow of delight as the cake made a soft landing on his plate.

"Finder's keepers, loser's weepers!" Nick eyed his new treasure.

"Say, Nick?" Grissom's voice had a dangerous quality to it. "You uh, still want that promotion?" Nick turned around to see his boss looking at him speculatively over the top of his glasses. '_He's kidding, right?_' He didn't look like he was kidding.

"Are you offering me the promotion for this piece of cake right here?" He asked bravely, all the while avoiding Sara's eyes.

"Are you trying to bribe me, Nick?" Grissom had to work hard to hold his disapproving glare on the younger man.

"I, uh..." Nick looked around the table at his fellow night-shifters. Catherine was watching the scene unfold with amusement, Warrick was shaking his head at his audacity, and Greg was too busy munching on 'his precioussss' to bother paying any attention to them. 

"I believe you dropped this," Nick said, holding the plate of contraband out to the senior CSI.

"Why, thank you, Nick. I believe I'll go finish my cake in my office, if that's ok with the rest of you..." Grissom made as if to leave, but Sara's challenging tone of voice stopped him in his tracks.

"I can't vouch for your safety if you leave the room with that plate, Griss."

"Yeah, I do believe the breakroom is the only safe place to eat that," Nick chimed in. 

"You see how it is," Sara went on, "if you leave the room, both you and that plate of cake become fair game." Sara realized the meaning of what she just said, and she blushed. 

"You _aren't serious." Grissom shook his head, and turned around to head out the door. The sound of scraping chairs chorused in his ears as he looked back to see his crew all standing, waiting for him to move out of the doorway into the hall. "What, you are all going to...accost me for this piece of cake??" Grissom felt as though he was in a dream, and a very strange one at that._

"Naw, we wouldn't attack you Griss, we'd just... rough you up a little," Warrick said, cracking his knuckles.

"Guys?" Greg's voice cut through the sudden tension. "Did you know there's one piece of cake left?" Greg would have laughed if he wasn't so woozy. One by one, heads turned in his direction and focused on the open carton that held the last piece of German Chocolate cake.

"Now, before we go all crazy," started Catherine, heading towards the counter, "I suggest we have some sort of, I dunno, competition for the last piece of cake."

"You mean before we all start protesting, 'I'm the senior CSI,' or 'I broke the case, I should get the cake?'" asked Warrick.

"Exactly." Catherine nodded her head.

"Well, what kind of competition were you thinking of, Cath?" Sara spoke with enthusiasm. If it had anything to do with their skills as a CSI, she'd be eating that last piece of cake in no time.

"Well, before you get too excited, Sara," Catherine hadn't missed the younger woman's interest. "I think it shouldn't have to do with anything that we're especially talented in."

"What kind of competition would that be, then Catherine?" Nick was hoping she didn't mean what it sounded like she meant. "You want to base this off of sheer luck?" That wouldn't bode well for him. Nick was about as lucky as the last man left on the Titanic.

"Not necessarily," Catherine said with a smile.


	2. Chapter Two

A/N I'm glad everyone's enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Thanks for the reviews, and your reward is Chapter Two! (wow, that rhymed!)

"Come on, Griss, you have to contribute, too!" Grissom found himself smiling indulgently at Sara, who was beginning to sound more and more like an exuberant teenager. He felt a little sorry for working her so hard--besides, if she was this interesting when she had a little fun in her life...

"I'll contribute in a minute, Sara. Right now I'm enjoying the rest of my cake in comparative safety."

"All right, now." Nick raised his arms in a gesture designed to gain everyone's attention. "If I leave this room, I'm safe, right? I don't have any cake..." Nick had been chosen as the one to go get his CSI hat, needed for Catherine's plans.

"You've got...two minutes, Nick." Warrick paused as he pressed a button on his watch. "Go!"

They all laughed as Nick went flying past Grissom through the doorway, the latter being careful to protect the remaining bite of his cake by stuffing it in his mouth without shame.

"All right, Gil, you're _finally_ done!" Catherine flipped a chair around and perched herself on it, her arms resting on the back. "No more procrastination," she said, commandingly. "Grab a piece of paper and a pen and WRITE."

Grissom laughed as Greg scurried over with a pen and paper. '_He is probably afraid I'll come to my senses and end all their fun.' He was surprised to find that he was looking forward to all this, too. He lowered his head in the pretense of writing, and watched Sara over the top of his glasses. She was sprawled on the couch, her feet dangling over the armrest, and her head resting in the middle. He saw movement, and had to suppress a giggle as he saw she was twirling her hair around a finger. He recalled a time, long ago, when he had visited Harvard as a guest speaker. Sara had been so interested in his lecture that she'd stayed behind to ask questions, and questions had turned to dinner. Over dinner they'd talked about everything--including how twirling her hair was a bad habit Sara had had in high school. He felt a sudden pang of guilt, wondering if he had worked her so hard that she forgot how to have fun completely._

Grissom wasn't sure what he was supposed to write, so he checked to see if Catherine was watching and snuck a hand out to grab one of the already folded pieces of paper. 'Spin the Bottle' was written on it, in all caps, with a smiley face. '_Who...?'_

"No fair, he's peeking!" Greg reached out and snatched the paper from Grissom's hand, ripping it in the process. "Aww man! Now I have to re-write it!"

"'Spin the bottle,' Greg? I don't think you have to rewrite it." Grissom tried not to think about how fun it would be to kiss Sara, and tried to focus on the fact that his co-workers would have been watching anyway. 

"One forty-five, one forty-six..."

"I think Grissom's right, Greg," Catherine's voice broke in, backing him up. "I mean, exactly how do you 'win' spin the bottle, anyway?"

"One fifty. One fifty-one, One..."

"Four guys? Two ladies? The man with the most smooches at the end wins, of course!" Greg did a little twirl and came around with hands snapping to a point. "Ohhh yeahhhh," he said, in a bad imitation of... someone.

"fifty-six, one fifty-seven..."

"Come up with a new one, Greg." Grissom handed the disappointed Greg some paper and a pen.

"fifty-nine, two minutes! Oh that's it he is so dead!" Warrick lunged out the doorway after the hapless Nick, as the rest of the night crew looked on in laughter.

"Oh, FINE." Greg pouted, as he wrote something else down. Grissom leaned over as if to see, and the lab rat sullenly turned his body to hide his paper, covering it with his free hand just in case.

"Ever do the bicycle?" Sara piped up from the couch. Grissom looked over and immediately turned red. Sara was still lying with her back on the couch, but now her legs were in the air, mimicking the movement of feet on pedals, pumping. All he could think about was what it would feel like to be wrapped up in those legs...

"Oh, yeah--that's good workout for your legs. I used to do that all the time when I was dancing." Catherine hugged the back of her chair with her legs, and leaned her body backwards, stretching her arms back behind her head.

"Close your mouth, Greg." Grissom had to laugh at the younger man's expression. 

"Oh, sorry--I didn't mean to tempt you there, Greggo." Catherine spoke from her stretched position, giving no indication that she would move any time soon.

"Oh, you weren't tempting me, Cath," Greg lied. "Well, actually you were--" He reached over and tickled Catherine's belly. Catherine shrieked, extricated herself quickly, and started chasing him around the room. Grissom watched as the lab tech looked at the door longingly as he ran.

"Better not, Greggo--she can only mildly injure you in here!" A chorus of 'owowowowow's" from the hall along with Warrick's maniacal laughter gave truth to his words, as the two missing CSI's walked into the breakroom. Warrick was giving Nick the noogie of a lifetime, and it was obvious that the other man wasn't enjoying it one bit. 

"Hey now," said Nick, once his friend finally stopped manhandling him. "Is that any way to treat your judge?" Nick smoothed down his shirt, having completely forgotten about his hair, which now resembled one of Greg's more outrageous styles.

"Judge?" Sara asked the question as she popped up from the couch, causing Grissom to once again wonder why everything she did tonight made him want her. He'd been looking in the correct direction to see her getting up, and the litheness of her body along with the ease of her movements made him picture all kinds of interesting situations. Grissom blamed his inability to control his thoughts on the half a cup of wine he had before shift.

"Of course! After all, I'm the only one in here who didn't have any cake, so I'm assuming the piece left over would have been mine." Nick was warming to his subject now. "I mean, if I hadn't so _graciously_ offered to donate my piece to our little competition, I could have chosen to give it to someone else!" Nick's hand was now resting on the cake box, and it quivered a little bit when he turned to view the hostile glares of his co-workers. "That's why," he started again, his voice cracking a bit as he removed his hand from danger, "I think you should have me judge this."

"There's only one problem with that, Nick," Catherine said. "A judge is supposed to look _dignified._' Catherine laughed as she realized Nick had no idea what she was talking about, and actually looked slightly hurt by her comment.

"Yeah, and your hair looks like a flock of _seagulls_!!" Sara said, falling back on the couch due to the vehemence of her laughter. Nick turned towards the door of the breakroom, his image reflected in the glass. His hair did indeed look as though a large group of birds had used it as a landing pad. He hurriedly smoothed it down as he waited for the rest of the group to stop laughing at him. He remembered the hat, and whipped it from his pocket in an impressive gesture that everyone missed due to their laughing fit, and tossed it onto the table.

"All right, that's enough," he said, hoping there was enough of a tone of command in his voice. "Place your papers in the official hat, please." Nick was gratified to see that everyone but Sara and Grissom immediately got up to place their papers in his hat. Grissom, he saw, was still working on something to write on his paper, and Sara was still caught up in hysterical laughter. At a particular noise, Grissom looked up.

"Did you just _snort_, Sara?" he asked, incredulously. Sara looked up with what she intended to have been an indignant look, but the shocked expression on Grissom's face set her off into peals of laughter again.

"I... did.... *snort* nothing... of the... *hiccup* sort!!" she gasped out, invalidating her own statement in the process.

"That's it, Sara, you're cut off!" Warrick reached out and took her cup of coffee from beside the couch, and tossed it in the garbage can. He then started humming one of his favorite songs, unable to stop himself. He'd been stuck on it all night anyway.

"Sara, your paper, please." Nick pompously held out the hat for her. "And Grissom? We don't have all night here." His incorrect comment sent Sara off to lala land again, and she snorted again when Warrick hit her in the face with one of the couch pillows. Greg, having finally succumbed to a mock beating by Catherine, leaned over and made as if to read what Grissom was struggling to write on his paper. Grissom, to Greg's dismay, noticed this, and mimicked the younger man's earlier actions by turning his back and covering his paper with a hand. After a minute, he shot Greg a triumphant look, folded his paper into fours, and tossed it into Nick's proffered hat.

"Ok then, we will begin." Nick stuck his nose in the air as he reached into the hat to pick a paper. The mood in the room was infectious, and he got caught up in it as well. After making quite a show of reaching around in the hat, he came out with a balled up piece, and set the hat down.

"Need any help with that, Nicky?" Grissom had reached into a pocket and pulled out some tweezers. "I could send that over to questioned documents and have them unwrap it for you..."

"No, that won't be necessary." Nick was still in character as the uppity judge. That all changed as he finished unwrapping the piece of paper and read the words inscribed on it. "Twister?!" he asked, incredulously. Greg let out a whoop, and started doing a boogie, leaving everyone with no doubt as to who had written 'twister.'

"_Twister? I don't think so, Greg." Grissom knew who would lose that, having had a twinge of pain in his right knee from crawling around at a crime scene two weeks before._

"Why not?" Surprisingly, the question came from Sara, which did nothing to stop Grissom from his nights' habit of picturing her in different torrid positions.

"First of all, we don't have a board," Catherine started, her hand reaching for her purse as if to check on her cash supply--ostensibly to go and actually buy a twister board at one in the morning. Warrick's hand reached out to stop her.

"Second of all," he started, "Catherine cheats at twister." Four pairs of shocked eyes turned towards him, three real, one fake.

"You know you cheat, Catherine." Warrick still hadn't let go of her hand, either. He turned to address the rest of them. "She bites." 

"I do _NOT!" Catherine protested, yanking her hand from his grasp._

"Want me to show you the scar?" Warrick winked at her, stood up, and made as if to undo his belt buckle.

"I think we believe you, 'Rick." Nick spoke quickly, hoping to stop his friend before he dropped trou.

"Ok," Warrick said. "But she really does bite." Catherine swatted at him but he dodged her easily.

"I think it's a moot point anyway," said Grissom.

"Oh, he's probably right." Sara actually sounded disappointed, thought Grissom. He couldn't know that she was picturing their own private game of twister...

"Ok, so Greg's contribution is out," Nick said, reaching into the hat without ceremony this time. "Who wants to hear what the second paper says?" he asked playfully, waving the folded paper in the air.


	3. Chapter Three

I couldn't leave you without a chapter to warm your Saturday evening, so here it is:

"We do, we do!!" Even Grissom had lent his halfhearted plea to the chorus, so Nick ceremoniously unwrapped the folded piece of paper to read, "Charades."

"Ooh! Ooh! I'm good at charades!" Sara bounced up and down in her seat, causing Grissom to watch her actions with undisguised interest. Nick saw this, and smiled when he saw there was more on the paper. 

"Not so fast, Sara--it's got conditions." Sara pouted as Nick read the rest of the words on the paper. "'Charades: each person is acted out by someone else. ex: Warrick acts out Grissom, while the rest try to guess who he's acting like.' That sounds like fun, guys!" Nick was liking his self-declared judgeship even more, now. He completely sucked at charades. He looked around the room, and was happy to see everyone nodding. It looked like this was an approved step along the competition.

"Ok, who wants to go first? I'll whisper the name of the person to you." Nick hoped no one objected to this--he was about to have a lot of fun with Grissom and Sara.

"I'll go--I'm much better at guessing, so I'll get this out of the way." Catherine stood up and walked over to Nick. "This one was mine, Nick--and I have some ideas if you don't mind working with me on this," she whispered to Nick. He nodded slightly, and then turned to everyone else.

"Let me write down everyone's names so I'll be sure not to miss anyone," he said, as he turned back to Catherine and wrote, 'go on, I'm game.'

"Well, what do you think about making this one rigged?" Nick raised an eyebrow at her, then turned around and mimed counting to make sure he'd gotten everyone. He then turned around and made a question mark on the sheet.

"I think Grissom needs a little...encouragement, don't you think?" Nick grinned as he turned to Catherine and whispered in her ear, "go for it!" She turned to his sheet, and quickly marked initials beside everyone's name, writing hers next to Greg's.

"Show time!" Cat winked at Nick and turned to her new audience. "Am I allowed to use props?"

"As long as you don't speak, or write what you're miming, I think that'll be ok," Grissom said. "Just remember, you don't want to make it _too easy." Catherine held back a grin at that. Little did he know..._

Catherine made a gesture indicating that she was ready to begin. Warrick tossed his watch to Nick, who began timing her.

First, Catherine hung her head down and mussed up her hair a little bit.

"Nick!" shouted Sara with a huge smile on her face. Cat shook her head. Sara knew it would probably be Greg, but she wanted to see what the blonde would act out next, so she held her tongue.

Next, Catherine danced her way over to Sara, laying her head on the brunette's shoulder and gazing up at her eyes with a moony expression on her face.

"Grissom!" yelled Greg, who then turned an unbecoming shade of purple when Grissom shot him a look.

"Greg." Grissom's voice was firm; he knew he was right.

"Correct." Nick held up Warrick's watch. "Your guessing time was 25 seconds, not bad!" Sara held back her feeling of competition. She had known who it was within 5 seconds, but the look on Grissom's face when Greg suggested he was the subject was just too worth it.

Catherine looked at Grissom, who was sitting at the table playing with his glasses, a look of concentration on his face. '_What do you know, it might be working!_' She shot Nick a look that meant to hold off on the 'anvil' for a turn, and he nodded in agreement.

"Warrick--you're up." Nick was happy that he was in charge, 'cause there was NO WAY he was allowing his buddy to chose him as a target. He looked down at Catherine's scribbled initials and decided to play a little switcheroo on her as well. "You've got Catherine," Nick whispered to the tall man, who smiled slowly and largely. 

"You got it," he replied.

Warrick planned on making this one count, as in taking as much time as he could before making it obvious. First, he crouched down and mimed the collection of a piece of evidence, holding it up in the air and examining it for a second.

"Grissom!" Sara said, grinning at her boss. He'd jumped a little in the air when she'd said his name, and the action had been pretty cute. She thought sure she was right, but Warrick shook his head. '_Damn.'_

Warrick's next action was to crouch all the way on the floor, and bare his teeth at the group. They'd all completely forgotten about his comment that Catherine didn't play fair at 'Twister,' and he winked at Catherine. If she called him on it, she'd be as much as admitting that he was right about her biting. He could see the conflict in her face--should she just take the fall and admit it, or subject herself to whatever else he had planned? He switched positions quickly, but not before Greg called out,

"Nick? Is there something you want to be telling us?" The younger man smiled at Nick's discomfort.

"No Greg, there is not." Nick hadn't found that comment very amusing. "I wouldn't be stupid enough to let 'Rick act ME out, now, would I?"

"As much as I would like to imagine Sara crawling on the floor, I doubt she's the answer," Greg said, laughing at the look Grissom sent his way. The night had grown older and he had grown bolder--he didn't think the boss would be as cruel as to fire him over a little playful banter! Sara just gave him a look, and then turned to Warrick so as not to miss anything. He was now pretending to fluff his hair, and before someone could comment that it was her, as there were only two female CSI's in the room...

"Catherine!"

"Correct, Sara. Your time is..." Nick looked at the watch again. "40 seconds." Sara pouted again. She didn't want to lose to Grissom, of all people.

"All right, who's next?" Catherine said, quickly. Nick had obviously gone against her little plan, for some mischievous reason that she would be willing to bet had something to do with Warrick. Nick looked down at his list, and knew he had to save the best for last.

"I'd say... Grissom." Nick smiled at the other man's discomfort. "You knew you'd have to do it sometime, Griss," he said.

"You know," their supervisor started, before being rudely interrupted by Catherine.

"No Sun Zsu quotes from you, get your ass up there!" Grissom scowled, his ploy to bore them out of remembering it was his turn having been foiled by Catherine. 

"And no bribing Nick with promotion promises, Grissom--don't let yourself be a hypocrite." Sara giggled behind her hand as Grissom shot her a skeptical look.

"Like I EVER would," he said, catching himself before he stuck his tongue out at her. '_What has come over me tonight?_' he asked himself.

"Well, Nick?"

"Since you two seem awfully tight lately," Nick began, giving Grissom a fright as he wondered if anyone had noticed his feelings for Sara. "I think you should have the honor of playing Warrick." Nick hid his smile at his boss's obvious relief. Little did he know that they pretty much all had figured it out by now!

"All right, I'm going to go get a couple props for this one--and no chasing me, no noogies, no nothing, unless you want to get the next 10 decomp cases!" Grissom rushed down to his office and grabbed something out of his desk drawer. It had been a long time since he'd tried this, but he didn't think he was too rusty. Besides, it would be fun to impress his co-workers with something other than obscure trivia.

Grissom stood in front of his audience, and leaned back on the counter with one arm, being careful to avoid the precious cake box. He slipped a hand into his breast pocket and pulled something out that he hid with his other hand. Grissom winked at Catherine as he made a sudden hand gesture--so fast that the crew could barely glimpse the pack of cards that slid neatly from one hand to another, covering almost a foot of distance in the process. He smiled to himself at the look of shock on their faces, and did the motion again, for good measure. He then grinned at Catherine, and walked over to her, holding the pack of cards in one hand. Smoothly, he cut the pack in two, not once touching it with his free hand, as he crouched next to her and draped his arm across the back of her chair.

"Would you like to pick a card, Cat?" he drawled, in his best lazy Warrick impression. With a flick of his wrist, he fanned the cards out for her, and could see the impressed looks of everyone else out of the corner of his eye. It disappointed him that he couldn't see Sara, though. He allowed himself to laugh at the fact that they were all so shocked at his unpredictability that they had completely forgotten they were supposed to be guessing. Grissom stood up, strutted over to the couch where Sara was, and plopped down, stretching his legs out before him. Sara had the oddest look on her face...

Sara had never seen Grissom act so...well... relaxed! It was an incredible turn-on, which was strange to her, considering she sometimes found his focus on his work extremely sexy. Not as sexy as this Grissom, though. Only the thought of enjoying the last piece of cake made her call out, 

"Warrick?"

"Correct, Sara, with a time of 30 seconds."

"I thought I was going to have to get up and give Nick a noogie," laughed Grissom from his new seat on the couch next to Sara. That had worked out pretty well, he thought.

"Ok, who's next?" asked Nick. "Greg or Sara?"

TBC 


	4. Chapter Four

_"Ok, who's next?" asked Nick. "Greg or Sara?"_

"That depends," Sara laughed. "Which one of us has to act Grissom out?"

"Good point," added Greg, "although no one's done Sara yet..." Sara wasn't looking in the right direction to see Grissom's blush.

"Yeah, I don't think we're nice enough to let Sara act Sara out!" Warrick added his two cents.

"Well, you all do realize that even though there are only two left to act Charades, there are _three_ people left to act out," Nick commented. He could see the confusion in their faces, and laughed as he added, "You all didn't think I would be dumb enough to let you all yell out the obvious answer when we came to the last Charades, do you?" He laughed harder at the chorus of 'awww!' 'oh man!' complaints that echoed around the room. This sure was fun!

"Greg, you're up." Nick smiled as he caught Grissom's relieved look, and then he was shocked to see the older man surreptitiously scoot over on the couch to be closer to Sara. '_That must be some cake!_' he thought to himself. He brushed the thought away and focused on Greg.

"You've got Sara," he whispered to him. Nick thought Greg was disappointed for a second, then the lab tech indicated the group behind them with his head.

"Gotta keep a poker face, Nicky!" Greg winked at him and then turned around to his audience.

The first thing Greg did was to pretend to be upset at Nick's choice for him, just to soften them all up. What he really wanted to do would give the game away immediately, so he knew to keep it interesting he'd have to be mysterious for a while. Greg pretended to be puzzled at how to begin, as he studied the faces of his co-workers. Catherine looked amused, and Warrick was looking at Catherine in such a way that Greg was _sure_ the other man had no idea anyone could see the expression on his face. Grissom looked relaxed, as he grinned at Sara. '_Grinned?_' Sara was watching to see what Greg would do next, but as he watched the two of them, she turned to see Grissom's grin and blushed. '_Blushed?!' _

"Do you suddenly feel like a 5th wheel?" Greg turned to whisper to Nick, who nodded. Greg was happy to see Grissom finally starting to pay attention to Sara. He could tell how hurt she was when he didn't. All of a sudden he got an idea, the perfection of which dazzled him. Once, he'd heard about something Sara had done for Grissom, and it had fired his jealousy. Now, he decided he would act it out in order to encourage the actions his boss seemed to be taking tonight. He moved quickly; he didn't want to lose his nerve.

Grissom was captivated by Sara's charming blush when he realized he ought to be paying attention to the game they were playing. He looked up to see Greg advancing on the couch, and before he knew it the younger man was standing next to him. Greg took a deep breath, and placed his hand close to Grissom's cheek...

Sara caught herself before she yelled out her own name. It would be interesting to see if Grissom owned up to the action she'd taken. Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath--so much so that when Grissom spoke, nearly all of them jumped in their seats in surprise.

"I hope you're not implying that Nick has feelings for me, Greg." His dry tone of voice upset Sara at first, before she fully comprehended what he'd said. The sound of her own voice shocked her almost as much as Grissom's had--she spoke quickly, without thinking.

"Are you saying that touching someone's face like that implies they have feelings for you, Grissom?"

"I..." He was at a complete loss for words. Grissom looked around to see if anyone would rescue him from this awkward situation. He made eye contact with Catherine...

"Do you have a guess, Gil?" Catherine's comment did nothing to dispel the feeling of dread creeping in the pit of his stomach. If anything, it made it worse--did _everyone_ know about it? '_Everyone DOES know, Gil--remember the investigation -?' He shifted his gaze to Warrick, who smiled at him slightly, pity evident in his face._

"Its me." Sara got up from her perch on the couch and pretended she needed to stretch her legs; walk around the room. She had made clear, in her tone of voice, that she was pretty unhappy with the way the game had evolved. What she had really wanted to do...

_"Its me." Sara stood up and walked over to where Greg was still standing, hesitantly, next to Grissom. "But you got it all wrong, Greg--it goes like this:" Sara smiled sweetly down at Grissom, then raised her hand as if to stroke him gently on the cheek. She didn't, however. The resounding *SMACK* sound of her hand against his face wasn't lost on anyone in the room._

_"Much better," Sara said, in satisfaction._

Sara was brought out of her daydream to the sound of Nick's voice, tallying the scores.

"Looks like Grissom and Sara are tied, folks."

Dead silence.

Nick coughed, partly to dispel the tension, partly in embarrassment. "Looks like we get to pick another game," he said.


	5. Chapter Five

"Who wants the honor of picking from the hat?" Nick asked. The mood in the room had changed considerably--Grissom was hunched over on the couch, sharing it with no one, since a) the scowl on his face meant it really wasn't worth attempting it, and b) Sara had moved across the room to brood over a cup of coffee. Everyone else in the room was pretty much taking their cues from those two. What Nick _hadn't_ counted on was Sara's style of brooding.

"I'll pick." Sara shot up out of her chair, obviously relishing the fact that her back was facing her boss. She hadn't yet actually patted her ass, inviting Grissom to kiss it for all she cared, but the implication was there. Sara was out to prove something to someone, it seemed. She thrust her hand violently into the hat, and Nick had to struggle to keep it upright and intact.

"Spin the bo-" Sara broke off. "WHO put this back in here?!" she demanded.

"As if we didn't know," Warrick whispered to Catherine. Sure enough, a way-too-cheerful-for-the-current-mood Greg popped up out of his chair and spoke.

"I did!" He quickly whipped something out from beside his chair, plopping it down on the table as he said, "Ok, who's first?"

It was a bottle.

"Greg, I don't think-" Catherine's gentle chastisement was interrupted by a terse sounding Grissom.

"I'm NOT kissing Sara...err..." he broke off, obviously embarrassed by his Freudian slip. "...Anyone in the room," he was saying, but Sara had already reacted to his insensitive comment.

"I'm not kissing Grissom, either."

"That's ok, you can kiss me!" Greg was either oblivious to the growing strain in the room, or too stupid to notice it, depending on whose thoughts you were reading at that particular moment.

After a long, volatile glare at each other from across the room, Sara broke eye contact with Grissom and started for the hat again.

"Woah, woah," Nick started to protest, fearing for the sanctity and safety of his hand, should she attempt to pick a new piece of paper. Catherine saved him from the threat by getting up, leading a still-angry Sara to her seat, and picking a fresh paper from the hat. If anyone had ever doubted her mothering abilities, they never would again. Somehow she'd managed to sit Sara down and take control of the situation--without even losing any limbs in the process! Catherine tried to stop her cheeks from warming at the look of pride and respect that Warrick was sending her way, as she read,

"Chubby Bunnies."

Looks of confusion all 'round.

"Would anyone like to explain this game? The person who...chose it, perhaps?" Catherine sounded like she was interested, but wasn't quite sure what the game entailed.

"It sounds like some game where you stuff your shirt with a pillow and hop around," Warrick laughed.

"Not shirt, Warrick--mouth. With marshmallows, not a pillow." Nick laughed along with Catherine and Greg at Warrick's imaginative description of the game, while Grissom still huffed on the couch, and Sara pretended she wasn't interested. Nick rummaged through a cabinet; so far back was he searching that nearly all of him that was visible was shins and feet. He emerged not long after, bearing two large bags of marshmallows, one full of large sized marshmallows (like the kind for S'mores), and one full of mini-marshmallows (like you'd put in hot chocolate).

"Wait," Warrick objected, "this isn't the kind of game where you have to switch a marshmallow from your mouth to someone else's, without using your hands, is it?"

"Don't worry, Griss--we know," Greg interjected, bravely. "You don't want to share a marshmallow with Sara."

Grissom looked over at the young man, and instead of making him angry, Greg's comment just brought home to him just how harsh he had been to Sara. If _Greg could stand up to him, and make that comment, it must have been a pretty harsh thing to have said to her. He was at a loss to respond, but Nick spoke next, granting him a reprieve._

"No, Warrick, wrong again!" Glancing over at Grissom, Catherine was glad that she wasn't the only one who thought Nick was a _little too enthusiastic about his game. She also sent him a slight encouraging smile, hoping he'd choose to rejoin the group soon._

"Here's how to play," Nick said. Holding up the bag of mini-marshmallows, he broke it open, and spilled a couple out on his palm. "The goal is to stuff your mouth with a bunch of these," he said, actually placing the seven or eight marshmallows in his mouth before speaking again. "athd bfee afble tho thay 'Chubby Bunnies.'"

"The 'Chubby Bunnies' part I understood, but..." Catherine started.

"-the rest was pretty unintelligible," Warrick finished for her. "What did you do, practice that part?" Nick blushed as he chewed, holding up his hand, showing a gesture meant to stand for, 'a little.'

"Wait, I can translate!" Greg shoved his chair back and positioned himself on it cross-legged, holding himself to a posture mimicking a gypsy staring into a crystal ball--in his case, the 'ball' was a hackey-sack.

"Here, Greg--" Grissom said, surprising all of them, not to mention himself. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys, detached something from his keychain, and tossed it at the lab tech. His 'crystal' ball must have been working, because Greg caught it one-handed.

"Oh, _sweeet__!! A Babel Fish!!" He held up the little object, imagined up in a Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy book, and asked Grissom if it really worked._

"The batteries died," his boss winked. Sara noticed this new development with a little less rancor than she would have, five minutes previously.

"Greg, give that back before Griss starts answering '42' to everything," Nick said with a laugh. "And before anyone else starts editorializing me, I said 'and be able to say.'"

"I think you mean, _tried_ to say," Catherine teased.

"Does anyone else find it amusing that Nicky couldn't say '_and be able to say' but said 'Chubby Bunnies' perfectly?" Sara couldn't help but point this out._

"I'd say its more _ironic_ than amusing." Warrick's comment got them all chuckling, even Grissom.

"It looks like you two forgot who the GAME MASTA was," Nick said, pompously. "So for your indiscretions, you get to pick between you to see who will go first." 

"I'll go," Warrick offered. "How many did you have in your mouth? One? or Tthfoo," he jibed, mimicking Nick's inability to enunciate.

"I had _nine, 'Rick, and I can't WAIT to see you spitting marshmallows, trying to say something!" Nick was looking forward to this, considering that it had taken nearly two years for him to perfect his talent at this game. The punishments his frat had come up with for failure might have had something to do with it, as well. Texas in general, and Houston in particular may have a reputation for hot, sultry days, but the nights could be quite cold. Especially in your skivvies._

"I could do this in my _sleep_," Warrick boasted. He grabbed the mini-marshmallow bag and started dumping some on the table.

"Well, you've got one thing going for you," Catherine noted. "Your mouth is a lot bigger than Nick's." 

All eyes focused on her.

"What?!" She said, refusing to let the scrutiny faze her. "It's not like I kissed them to find out!"

Four raised eyebrows, and a wolf whistle.

"Thank you, Greg," Catherine said in sarcastic appreciation of his aural contribution. "Enough talk--Warrick, start stuffing!" 


End file.
